The Battlefield
by madpotterfan811
Summary: Harry is in love with Ginny. So when she gets hurt, he tries to do what he thinks is best for her. Little does he know, that may be the biggest mistake he has ever made. Rated Mature for language. Starts right after DH. ON HIATUS INDEFINITELY.
1. Breathe

Disclaimer: I do NOT own Harry Potter. Sadly, I am not J.K. Rowling.

Chapter One - Breathe

"That wand's more trouble than it's worth," said Harry. "And quite honestly," he turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for him in Gryffindor Tower, adn wondering whether Kreacher might bring him a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."

Excerpt from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

The story continues...

Harry awoke some time later, feeling the warm sun on his face and the soft fabric of his sheets beneath his skin. He didn't open his eyes right away, however. He couldn't believe that it was over. He didn't believe that it was over. It had to have all been a dream. He would wake up now, still lying in the tent in the country side. Hermione must have opened up the top to let the sun in. Yes, that was what the warmth he felt on his face was. And he was obviously imagining the feel of his sheets, yes, now that he thought about it, that did feel like more like a sleeping bag.

His eyes flew open. Who was he kidding? He wasn't sleeping in some goddamn tent in some goddamn sleeping bag on some goddamn hill. He was sleeping on sheets, with a quilt and a comforter and a warm pillow beneath his head. And, if he wasn't mistaken, which he wasn't, there was a mattress, a solid real-life mattress beneath him. Impossible. He fumbled for his glasses and rammed them onto his head. His dorm room for the past seven years came into focus. Harry could've almost cried he was so happy. But of course, he didn't. Still, he was back here. He was really back here, in the place that he loved, the place that had been the closest thing to a home he had ever had. But why? Why the hell was he in his bed in Gryffindor tower?

With a staggering blow to his heart, his mind, his soul, and his body, he remembered everything. He remembered Snape's memories. He remember his parents shadowy forms in the forest. He remembered dying. He remembered meeting Dumbledore in King's Cross. He remembered life again. He remembered the sweet, exhausting, painful, heart wrenching, wonderful, disgusting, glorious, unearthly feel of victory in his hands. Most of all, he remembered Fred and Lupin and Tonks and Colin Creevy and everyone else. He remembered Ginny. _Ginny. _

He felt so overwhelmed. The anger, the sadness, the pain, and the terror did not fill him up. He was overwhelmed with unfelt emotions, unseen thoughts, unshared feelings. He didn't know what he was feeling. It was all too impossible, too complicated, to sort out.

"Don't forget to breathe**.**" He told himself quietly. He took a few deep breaths and lay back down on his pillow, staring at the blank ceiling and tracing the scar on his forehead with his fingertips.

How had he done it? How had he made it through? He thought back to seeing Ginny comforting a young girl as he walked to his death. It has taken every ounce of free will in his body to keep walking.

Ginny. Where was she? He needed to find her. He needed to find her to tell her he was sorry. To tell her he had never stopped caring for her, and that that wasn't the reason he had broken it off. He slowed himself down. What was he thinking? He had basically broken Ginny's heart. Ron had made that clear at the end of last summer. He hadn't spoken to her for a year; he hadn't even given any indication to her that he was alive. Then he had proceeded to try and stop her from fighting in the battle, which he knew probably didn't go over well with her. And he had passed by her, on the way to his death, without saying a word. Without saying goodbye. If she ever found out, which inevitably, she would, she probably wouldn't speak to him for weeks. She wouldn't understand that he had done it because he cared for her too much to allow himself to stop. He smiled a bit to himself, remembering her feistiness, and her fiery passion in everything. It melted off his face one second later. _Smiling? Why are smiling, you git? You've gone and lost her forever, thanks to your sodding nobility. Stupidity, more like, at least to Ginny. _

Harry came out of his thoughts a few minutes later and an eerie voice sounded in his head. Where is everyone? Shouldn't there be more people here? The dormitory was definitely empty, and he would have heard any noise in the common room below. In fact, the castle itself seemed utterly quiet. Harry got a foreboding sense that it was...empty. Harry leapt up before he could control himself. He was wearing an old set of jeans, so ripped and torn and dirty, you could hardly tell they were jeans, and a plain grimy green t-shirt. He had fallen asleep in his robes, but now they were twisted in a bundle at the base of his bed. He didn't give a thought to his appearance, however. He leapt down the stairs into the abandoned common room. There had been another attack made when he was asleep. He just knew it. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have thought that the threat was gone?

He scrambled out of the portrait hole, looking around for anyone to talk to, but the fat lady was missing from her large portrait, and the hall around was deserted. He sprinted towards the main staircase and turned to run down it, when he saw Ron and Hermione walking towards him, chatting nonchalantly and smiling shyly at eachother.

"Ron...Hermione!!" he gasped, leaning down and supporting himself by resting his hands on his knees. They both looked up, startled.

"Harry!" Hermione cried with delight. "We were just about to come up and wake you. Ron wanted to wake you earlier, but I said you deserved a few extras hours sleep." She smiled kindly at him. Harry was bewildered. He looked from Hermione to Ron to Hermione again.

"But...but...where were you? You guys were gone, and Gryffindor tower was deserted, and...and, I thought there had been another attack or something."

"Harry...mate, we've been down at breakfast. Everyone was. McGonagall had some announcements to make." Ron said this with a kind, concerned expression on his face that reminded Harry of the summer before his fifth year, when everyone acted like he was a bomb about to explode. The same angry feelings he had felt then flared up inside him again, and he glared at Ron.

"You can't just leave like that. Everyone was gone. Everyone. Why wouldn't I have thought something had happened. It's not like there wasn't a war going on less than 24 hours ago."

"Harry...Harry," Hermione soothed, "we thought you might've just wanted some extra sleep, that's all, you've been up for days."

"Still, just, it scared me, I mean, the war, things could still be dangerous."

"Harry, the danger's gone. McGonagall made that quite clear to us," Ron said, a content expression in his eyes.

"Honestly, Harry, do you think if some Death Eaters attacked, which they didn't, they would have emptied the Gryffindor common room and just overlooked the man who had just killed their "Lord". I think not." Harry exhaled quietly. Of course. Why had he been so stupid?

"I'm sorry. I just think I'm still paranoid about everything. I'm really going to have to get used to the fact that everything is okay now. That I don't have to worry about Voldemort attacking, or Death Eaters finding out where I am. I'm safe. We're all safe." He said the last word with a tone a finality. This was it. He had done it. "So...is McGonagall still talking down there? I want to here what she says about everything." He started to make his way down the steps, but felt a firm hand grab his arm.

"Uhm...I don't think you want to do that," Ron said uneasily.

"Why not?"

"Well, do you really want all the attention people would give you if you went down there now? All those people, sitting in one room..." Harry's eyes widened. He imagined hundreds of people clapping and cheering, not thinking for a moment about Fred or Lupin or Tonks, or all that Hermione and Ron had done for him. Without them, he would be dead 50 times over. Probably more. No, that was the last thing he wanted.

Without saying a word, he turned around and starting making his way back up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower. Ron and Hermione followed, and Harry called over his shoulder, "How 'bout you too just fill me in?". The three laughed like old times and made their way back to the common room.


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. We all know who does.

_Author's Note: _

_I know I'm lame for not depicting the funerals, but honestly, it was a choice between a funeral scene and a Harry/Ginny scene, and I personally prefer the two of them any day. I want to get on the plot (this is a Harry/Ginny fic you know) and not waste time on things that have no relevance in the future of the story. We all know who died, and we all know they must have had funerals, so that's that. _

_Finally, I know the plot of this story may seem like nearly every other after Hogwarts Ginny/Harry story you've read (at least I've read), but the main plot twist is entirely different than anything I've seen. This is mainly just setup. Don't worry, I'm usually an impatient writer, so the good stuff will be coming soon. Enjoy :). _

Chapter Two

Harry learned in a short period of time from Ron and Hermione what McGonagall had told the group. All of the Death Eaters were rounded up. Kingsley was the Minister of Magic. Things were being restored into order all over the wizarding world. Anyone who wanted to was welcome to stay and help restore the castle, although anyone who desired to was free to go home.

"What about Hogwarts?" asked Harry impatiently. "Will it reopen?"

"Of course it will, I mean, this is Hogwarts for god's sake, what would Britain do without it?" Hermione scoffed.

"This coming year?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Well, if we restore everything in time and if enough parents are willing to let their children attend a school that was so recently under attack."

"Well of course they'll attend!" Harry exclaimed. "Like you said, the danger's gone, right?"

"Right," Ron and Hermione said simultaneously, smiling at Harry.

"Well, we're going back, right? For another year!" Harry was getting excited now. He would be with Ginny. His heart got heavier as he thought, _Well, if Ginny ever talks to me again_. Meanwhile, Hermione and Ron's smiles were fading.

"Do you honestly want to go back for another year?" asked Ron.

"Harry, you just defeated Voldemort. You could get any job in the entire world without further question. You don't need NEWTS for those." Hermione said.

"Hermione! I didn't think I would ever hear you speak of the unimportance of NEWTS. Amazing."

"Oh, shut it, Ron."

"Guys, I just...it's just...If I don't go back to school, I'll feel like I need to start a life for myself right away, put back together the broken pieces and get back on my feet. As much as I wish that I was, I just don't think I'm ready," Harry explained cautiously.

"Seriously?" Ron asked incredulously, "I mean, you've just been preparing for Voldemort. What's the real world compared to-"

"But that's just it!" Harry interrupted, anger rising in his cheeks. "I have had so much responsibility in the last months. Literally, the fate of the entire wizarding world was on my – our shoulders. Seriously, I can't believe you guys don't feel the same way. I don't want to have to think, to prepare, to work, as horrible as it sounds. I just want to be taught again. I just want my only worries to be my potions essay. I just want some sort of normality again."

"Harry," started Hermione in that soothing tone that could get so irritating so quickly. "Harry, you know you're not going to get normality again for a while, I mean look what - "

"I KNOW!" He yelled. "I know! You think I don't that? You think every minute that I'm still alive, that I'm still breathing, I'm not thinking how un-effing-normal my life was, is, or will ever be? If some of that happiness I used to have could just come back for a little bit, if I could just forget what has happened in my life so for, even for one day, well, that'll be as close to normal as I will ever get. And I can pretend it has always been like that, and it will always be like that."

"Harry!" Harry's eyes had closed in anger, but they opened again at Ron's angry voice. "You're acting like you have nothing left to live for. As if everything in your life is a piece of shit and you'll be miserable forever. Think about all you have left. Think about how much more you could've lost. Yes, you lost your parents. Yes, you lost Sirius and Lupin. Yes you lost Dumbledore. But you still have us. You have me, Hermione, you have the rest of the Order, you have my family, you have Ginny!" From the offhand tone in Ron's voice, Harry doubted that he had meant to bring emphasis to Ginny's name by stating it last, but nonetheless, the sound of it sent shivers down Harry's spine.

"We've lost people, too." Harry heard Ron's voice crack as he said this, and he thought of Fred. "Why are you acting like you're life is over Harry? Now is when your life can truly begin."

"I know Ron. I'm not saying...I...maybe it came out wrong. I just, I need a little break. Just for a little while. Just to get back on my feet and get my bearing again. Is that okay?" He had been looking at the floor as he said this, and as he looked up warily he saw two expressions of solemn defeat, but also of understanding. They cracked three grins. "So...what are we up to now?"

"Well," began Hermione, "I suppose if you want this castle to be in shape by September, we'll have to get to work."

Hermione's statement was easier said than done. There was more things than they had ever imagined to do around the castles. The entire thing basically needed a good scrubbing. The walls needed to be rebuilt, the grounds needed to be cleaned and fixed, the windows needed to be repaired, the tapestries, paintings, statues, suits of armor, etc., needed to be located, mended, and returned to the proper place, the common rooms needed to be tidied and made suitable for living in, the house-elves needed to be found and returned to the kitchens, which also needed some help, and to top all that off, the magical charms and wards over the entire castle needed to be put back into place.

The Weasleys, naturally, had stayed. After the funerals were over, they sprang back in their usual Weasley fashion and got to work. While the professors busied themselves with the ancient and complicated magic that needed to be restored over, in, and on the castle. Everyone else was busy sewing tapestries and scrubbing floors, to sum it up. To add discomfort to the situation, Ginny always seemed to be working near Harry. He doubted it was purposefully done, seeing as Ginny could be nothing less than fuming at him, as he still had not spoken a word to her. _Nice going, _he kept telling himself. _You, a Gryffindor, taking the coward's way out. Real nice._

One especially uncomfortable day, he found himself all alone in some random 5th floor corridor with Ginny, scrubbing the nasty mark left from an explosion off the wall. Ginny was down on the opposite end, but she was still there, touching up a painting of an old wizard reading a book, who seemed to be ignoring the fact that he was missing an arm and his nose. He was also ignoring the fact that Ginny was repainting him, and doing quite a poor job of it. At least, it was not matched with the style of painting of the original artist. Ginny had pointed this out to the old wizard earlier, apoligizing, but the wizard ignored her, naturally.

So here Harry sat, listen to her try to make conversation with an obviously anti-social painting. _I suppose anything is better than talking to me_, Harry thought forlornly. __This wasn't true at all, life went extremely hard on Harry most of the time, but he supposed that when it came to girls, he had gotten pretty lucky. Until now. Therefore life had gone easy on him most of the time in that aspect of his life.

_Ginny must feel so alone, _he thought. Her family was all caught up in Fred's death. Ron would have been cheerful enough, but all his time was spent with Hermione. And now he, Harry, wasn't speaking to her. What was his problem? He was officially the biggest git. More like the biggest coward. "I should have been sorted into Slytherin." He whispered angrily, even though he knew it wasn't true.

"Did you say something? Are you actually speaking to me?" Ginny was talking excitedly to the painting again, getting a silent response. _Damn, she has good hearing._ Before Harry knew what he was doing, he felt himself stand up, his head turn towards her, and his mouth open.

"Um...no, sorry, that was me, I was just talking to myself." He didn't even know where it came from, but it came, and he had no idea what she would say back. It seemed as though they had come to an understanding, a mutual non-talking agreement, and he had just broken it.

Ginny turned and stared coldly at him. He felt like his heart withered up and all his organs shriveled like grapes when she looked at him like that, with such contempt. He held his breath, feeling like he was open to burst, yet at the same time, so devoid of emotion. "Oh, sorry." With that, Ginny turned back to her work and continued to paint in silence. However, Harry couldn't sit back down and continue working. His body would not allow it. His muscles were frozen into place and he just stood there, staring at her. God was she beautiful. But she noticed it soon enough. Her head snapped towards him. "What are you looking at?" It wasn't harsh or mean, nor was it playful and sweet. It was simply a question, mild curiosity, nothing more.

"I can't stop looking at you**," **Harry heard himself whisper.

"What was that?" Ginny's eyes were narrowed. Again that feeling of not being in control took over Harry. He felt his vocal chords loosen and clear, and his mouth was opening, and this time it came out louder, much louder, loud enough for her to hear.

"I can't stop looking at you**." **Instantly, Harry shut his eyes, clapped a hand over his mouth, and held his breath.

"Oh," she said, again devoid of emotion. "Thanks, I guess." Harry felt so sick at himself, so angry, so sad, just so wrong. Everything felt wrong to him. He threw the scrub brush that was in his hand down on the ground, hardly hearing it clatter, as the blood was pounding loudly in his ears as he turned and stalked off down the hall. As he turned the corner towards the mens' bathroom, he heard a loud, angry snort, but he ignored it and entered the bathroom.

Looking in the mirror, he saw that he was visibly shaken. God, how could one person do this to him? He steadied himself and splashed cold water onto his face. He came up from the sink, wiping his face, and saw a blur of fiery red. As he put on his glasses, Ginny's face swam into view.

"What...what the hell are you doing in here?! It's the bloody boys bathroom!"

"What the hell are you doing? Staring at me, saying you can't look away, and then just stalking off when I don't leap into your arms or whatever you expected me to do. What _did_ you expect me to do?"

"I...I...it's not about you. I've just...this has just been...I just needed to go to the bathroom, is that illegal?"

"No, but we both now that's not what you were doing." Ginny stared up at him, fuming. Now what? God, she was pretty when she was angry. He could almost feel the electric energy coming off of her. Every feature of her face was steeped in fury except her lips. They were relaxed, almost smiling playfully, except not really. They were just sitting there, begging him. Before he knew it, his lips were on hers and he was holding her again. He was right – she had been full of electricity; he could feel it coursing through his own body now. It was over in a millisecond, however; Ginny had pulled away and he saw merely a blur before he was hit with a stinging force. He yelped and grabbed his face.

"You just bloody slapped me, you bitch!"

"You just bloody kissed me. And don't call me a bitch." He hadn't meant to say it, it had just come out.

"I...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Kiss me? Or call me a bitch?"

"Both?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Too bad. I kind of liked the kiss."

Harry spluttered. "But you slapped me!"

"Yea. Part of it was shock, part of it was that I was angry. I don't know...it was kind of refreshing." And again, before he could even control it, he was close to Ginny. Really close. Wait...she had leapt into his arms, and now her face was attached to her and oh my god...pure bliss. Pure oblivion. It was heaven. It felt like it went on for days before Ginny was on the ground again, pacing.

"Wha...?" Harry knew he probably looked and sounded like an idiot, but he didn't really mind. What the hell was going on?

"Why didn't you talk to me? Why didn't you say anything? Why the HELL did you think you could just KILL yourself?"

"What? How do you know about that?"

"Ron and Hermione told me."

"That wasn't theirs to tell."

"I DON'T CARE. You were going to DIE and you didn't even say goodbye." Harry closed his eyes against the hateful barrage and started to say quietly, "I'm sorr-"

"Oh, screw you."

At this, he opened his eyes. He saw her mouth moving her fury, he saw her face contort with rage, but he couldn't hear anything. "Ginny, I didn't mean to hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing."

"Oh, SHUT UP! I don't want to hear it. And after all that, after trying to pretend like you had any right to not let me fight, after ignoring me on your way to YOUR DEATH, after not telling me what happened to you, you just ignore me for days, then try to win me back, then kiss me in some grungy boys bathroom, then start giving me lame apologies that I DON'T WANT TO HEAR."

"Ginny, I...I have an explanation..."

"There is no explanation! I thought you still cared about me, but obviously YOU DON'T!" She started to storm out, but Harry grabbed her arm and turned her around. Her had expected to see tears in her eyes, but it was just cold fury. "Stop it! Don't you dare touch me!" What was he doing? What was he doing? She was pressed against the bathroom wall, and his lips were on hers again, and it lasted for a few moments before she ripped herself away. "How DARE you? HOW DARE YOU? I cannot BELIEVE you think a kiss will make it all better!!" But then she had turned and was pressing herself against his chest. "Please say you have a reason. Please just say something that will make it all better, that will get rid of all the pain I have suffered on your part."

"That's what I've been trying to say Ginny. Everything I did, every action I took that was in relation to you, I did it all because...I love you."

_Okay folks, so I know this chapter was long, and probably one of the worse chapters I have written, but I got the stupid stuff out of the way, and hopefully now I can get their relationship up and running. I hope you understand that kissing then slapping then kissing then yelling then kissing and yelling some more then hugging. It was mainly just trying to show that she's so angry at him, almost close to hating him, yet she wants him so bad. It's kind of like a "I love you, I hate you" thing. I thought it would be a change from the either pure hate or pure love that is usually depicted with the rebuilding of their relationship. _


	3. You're All I Have

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Chapter Three- You're All I Have

"Seriously?" That wasn't exactly the reaction he was expecting. It wasn't a joyful 'seriously', a tearful 'seriously', or even a hopeful 'seriously'. It was an angry 'seriously'.

"Of course I'm serious. You think I would actually joke or lie about something like that?" Harry felt almost hurt. Is that what she actually thought of him?

"You have GOT to be kidding me!" And with that, she stormed out of the bathroom. Harry stood, gaping. He had just told her he loved her; he had put himself on the line, and she was getting _angry_ with him? Suddenly the anger starting rising in his cheeks and blood started to pound. What place was she in to just criticize him and put him down, after all he had been through? He stormed out after her.

"What is wrong with you?" He yelled at the orange blur moving quickly done the hall. Ginny stopped and stood for a moment, before rounding on him.

"What is wrong with ME? What the HELL is wrong with YOU?! Do you actually expect that you can just come here and tell me that you love me? Like I'm going to swoon over you, forget all my problems, all my anger, all my pain, and run into your arms? I'm not some silly little princess and you're not my Prince Charming, Harry. Saying you love me is not going to fix anything. It just shows how much of a coward you are. How much of a stupid-ass coward you are." Ginny stood perfectly still, staring him down, waiting for him to defend himself. He could tell she was formulating her next lashing to whatever he said in her head as she stood there.

"No, Ginny. That's not what I meant. That's not how I meant it. You asked for an explanation of everything, something that would make all that I've done have some reason. And I do have an explanation. I love you. That explains everything I've done so far."

"Oh yea? Do elaborate." Ginny's face was set with anger, but Harry could tell from the nervous tone in her voice that her resolve was cracking.

"You asked me why I tried to not let you fight. Because I love you. Because I would die if anything happened to you. You asked me why I didn't come and talk to you before I was going to die. I thought it would be obvious. I loved you so much that I knew that if I stopped to talk to you, I would never be able to go on. You would convince me to stay, and at that moment I knew I needed to go on. I needed to defeat him in any way possible. You asked me why I didn't tell you the whole story. I was afraid of making you hate me. I thought that if you found out that I hadn't spoken to you on the way to my death, you would never understand, and you would just hate me. Looks like you found out anyway, and as I predicted, you didn't understand. And finally, you asked me why I haven't talked to you at all since the final battle. It's because I was so afraid that if I did, I would learn that you hated me, or that you had moved on, or that, worst of all, you felt nothing but indifference towards me. And I love you Ginny, so it was just self preservation to not put my heart on the chopping block like that. I see now that it was more like cowardice, but I _was _scared, Ginny. And I cared too much to risk losing it all." He took a deep breath and looked up at Ginny. She was simply staring back stonily, not a hint of emotion, good or bad, in her face.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but a simple explanation like that isn't going to make it all better."

"A simple explanation?!?! Ginny, I just poured my heart out to you. I just presented every feeling and thought I've had about you and let you judge me for it. I don't know what else I can do or say. I don't know what else you expect. You're contradicting yourself. You ask for an explanation, and then refuse to except the best one I can give. I'm a teenage boy, I don't understand everything about you and I can't be perfect, but you are standing there saying you can't forgive me when you CAN. You CAN forgive, you just don't want to. You're just not letting yourself forgive me. It's like you're so scared of showing weakness or...or average human emotion. Humans can't be strong every second of their lives. Sometimes you have to just loosen the hell up!" Before Harry could say anything else, Ginny had turned and walked quickly away. He knew it was a lost cause; nothing he could say was going to make her stop walking. He let out a sigh, picked up his forgotten scrub brush, and continued working.

Later that night, Harry lay in his bed, wide awake yet exhausted. He couldn't sleep; memories of the fight with Ginny kept running through his head and the thought that she still hadn't spoken to him, spoken of him, looked at him, was plaguing him. He decided he needed some fresh air. He would never get to sleep, what with Ron and Neville's snores and thoughts of Ginny. He scampered down the dormitory steps, careful not to wake anyone.

When he entered the common room, he made his way swiftly towards the portrait hole, but was stopped when he heard a rustle and sniffle come from behind. He moved towards the fireplace and saw Ginny sleeping on the couch. Apparently she had just turned in her sleep; her hair was mussed and her arm dangled off the edge of the couch. Harry sat down in a squishy armchair opposite her and just watched. He supposed it was kind of creepy, just sitting there watching her sleep. But she was so beautiful, even when she looked plagued with fatigue. He wondered if she had come down for the same reason. Maybe she had just needed a break from the girls' dormitory. He was lost in thought when he saw her shiver in her sleep, and he noticed that the fire had nearly gone out. He stood up quietly and moved towards her, gently covering her with a knit blanket. As his hand brushed her shoulder, her eyes fluttered open, and she rubbed them as she turned to look at him.

"Who's there? Is that...what are you doing here, Harry...Harry?!?!" She had sat bolt upright when she noticed who it was, covering her chest with the blanket, even though she was completely dressed. It was almost comical, and Harry had to suppress a laugh. "What do you want?" She glared at his amused expression.

"I was just...you...you looked cold," he spluttered, taken off guard.

"Oh, and it's your responsibility to make sure I'm warm?!"

"What...WHY are you so content on making things more difficult then they have to be? YOU'RE the one starting all these fights. What is your problem? I'm only trying to be nice!"

"I guess I'm just sick of people trying to be nice to me." It wasn't a tone of defeat. Anger was still dripping from her words.

"Don't you get tired out? Don't you get weary of being angry all the time? Of upholding your values and continuing to be stubborn every instant of your life?"

"I don't think you're exactly in a place to be offending me right now."

"Please, just stop this. I just want to be with you. I don't want us to be pulled apart again.**"**

"Oh, now you're being nice?."

"Please just give me a chance.**"**

"You want a fucking chance? You gotta earn it. What's so great about me? Why do you love me so much anyway, tell me please."

"You're beautiful and brilliant. You're like a shock to my bones when a see you. I'm crazy about you – and I love you. I feel comfortable and happy with you. You're one of only things that kept me going during all that time.**" **Harry didn't know where it was coming from, but he felt his heart pouring out of his mouth, and it was spectacularly liberating.

"You are so fucking complicated Harry. I don't think I'll ever understand you. One moment you're pointing out major flaws in my character and the next you're basically singing me a bloody love song. I just don't get it. I want to believe you, I want to let myself go and have us back like we were so long ago, but you just...I just...I don't know what to do with you."

"Oh YEA?! Well do you think you're a piece of cake, some sort of perfect girl?" Harry felt anger bubbled menacingly in his throat. He was scared because he didn't know if he was going to be able to control it.

"NO, Harry. I'm NOT perfect. I don't WANT to be -"

"That's right. You're a pain in my ass 75 of the time. But that's part of why I love you. There's passion and fire in you. It's frightening and magical and I can't help but cling to it and beg for more.**"** For once, Ginny looked like she was speechless. "Please. Just give me a chance, Give me something to hold on to**" **Harry knew he sounded like a man pleading for his life, but he didn't care. For all he knew, he was pleading for his life, cause if Ginny kept on hating him like this, he might as well die. "Ginny, I never meant for you to hate me just cause I said I loved you. I thought it would help. I mean...I love you."

And then Ginny was on top of him, and their bodies were intertwined in the small arm chair and they were attached at the lips. Harry felt that electric shock go through him, and he truly felt like he was home. Ginny's hands were held fast on his neck, while his were searching all over her back and her arms and her neck and her hair, trying to touch every inch of her (well not _every _inch) just in case she got angry again and he would never be able to touch her again.

He felt her body press closer to him and their arms and their hands were locked together. He broke away for an instant to simply whisper in her ear, "Give me a chance, please." And in the next moment his lips were back on hers and their kiss was deepened, and he felt so close to her, not just physically, but emotionally. His arms were locked around her body, holding her as tight and as close to himself as possible, never wanting to let her go. Her hands, meanwhile, had taken up his job, and they were caressing his neck and his back and the outlines of his face, and her hands were intertwined in his hair, and he felt tingles going up and down his spine, all over his body.

And then she was moving away from him, and her lips left his. He searched again for them and found them, but not before she could whisper in his ear, "Okay."


	4. Gotta Have You

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does.

Chapter Four – Gotta Have You

The sun was setting over the Burrow as Harry watched from the kitchen. The rest of the family was relaxing in the sitting room, but Harry had offered to clean the kitchen after dinner. Now he stood watching the oily summer sun disappear behind the line of trees.

They had left Hogwarts two weeks ago, after most of the damage had been fixed, save the damage that could only be mended by deep, powerful magic, a process that was left to the teachers.

And now he stood in his second favorite place in the world, on the eve of the day that he would return for his 8th year at Hogwarts. Or more like 7th, seeing as he had not really been there for his 7th. He had never been happier in his life. There was no Voldemort to worry about anymore. He had Ron and Hermione. He had Ginny. And now he was going to return to his favorite place in the entire world, Hogwarts, with all of them, for Ron and Hermione had decided to return again as well. Hermione had desperately wanted to get into the real world and to become a fully qualified witch, but Harry had persuaaded her by discussing loudly around her how much he missed the talented faculty and the library packed with thousands of volumes. Hermione had sheepishly told him just a week ago that she thought she would be returning as well.

Ron had been harder to convince, but after realizing that there was no point in going into the real world without his best friend and girlfried, he grudgingly decided he would return too. Plus, it wasn't as if they were returning as true students. They had made a special deal with McGonagall.

She said that all they really needed to do to become fully qualified wizards was to take their NEWTS at the end of the year. She told them that she had full confidence that they were entirely prepared to take their exams without further study. However, Harry, Hermione, and Ron _wanted_ to return, so McGonagall had said they could attend 7th year classes, stay in the dormitories and so forth, but they were free to leave whenever they liked, as long as they returned for exams.

This deal had made Ron extremely happier about the situation and Harry had to admit that he liked it better that way as well.

So now they were all set to go and now all Harry had ahead of him were blissful days and nights filled with Ginny, Hermione, and Ron's company. Harry finished up with the last pot and moved away from the now dark window, removing himself from his thoughts. He entered the sitting room quietly to see the Weasleys surrounding the fire, all laughing jovially. Mrs. Weasley was snoozing on Mr. Weasley's arm. Ron was sitting close to Hermione, laughing at a joke Charlie, who was staying to keep his mother and father company for a little, had just told. Percy was also staying with his parents for a little while, just to help them adjust to the circumstances of all of their children basically being adults. Even Bill and Fleur were there, cuddled in the corner, staying the night to wish the four students-for-the-last-time off. Ginny was doubled over in laughter, and Harry sighed as he saw her brilliant face shining and her eyes lighting up with joy. The only one who looked uncomfortable and awkward was George, he sat in a corner, occasionally laughing at a joke, but otherwise looking like a child who had lost his mother in the supermarket, as though he didn't know how to act or who to be on his own. Harry felt so much pain for George. He knew that although losing Fred was painful to all the Weasleys, George literally didn't know what to do with himself. He had no sanctuary, no happiness. His best friend, a friend who was basically a part of him, was gone.

Harry felt the pain ebbing in his heart, but he couldn't help but let it dissipate when Ginny came walking quicklu towards him, grabbed his elbow, and pulled him out of the room, back into the kitchen. She sat him down, looking extremely serious, and sitting in silence for a few minutes before a grin split her face, and she said "Hey."

"What? I though I was in trouble or something. You've been glaring at me for the past two minutes." Ginny laughed, a beautiful, perfect laugh. Soft and quiet, yet still of life.

"I was just playing with you. I don't know, I'm in a weird mood. Must be a side-effect of the being a Weasley: you're always doing something strange."

"Well then I'll take the Weasleys any day, if only for the side effects."

"Oh, aren't you charming," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Come on, do you want to go for a walk. I think I need some fresh air." Without waiting for an answer, she walked out the back door and into the night air, leaving Harry no choice but to follow. Soon they were strolling through the warm summer air, the faintest autumn breeze chilling their faces and skin. He didn't even know how it got there, but Harry felt his hand intertwined in Ginny's.

"You know, I'm looking forward to school more they I ever have been. Apart from maybe my first year," Ginny said. "It'll just be me and you, in the same year, alone and free of nosy parents, welcome to spend whatever time we want together." Harry felt his mouth go dry and stood awkwardly for a few moments, before trying to cover up his uncomfortable moment.

"Ginny Weasley, what are you suggesting?" He exclaimed in mock outrage, laughing to himself as her eyes widened innocently.

"That is NOT what I meant. Get your mind out of the gutter, Harry! All I meant was that, well, whenever we just want to be alone, my parents assume we're getting up to something and they stick their noses in, even if we're just talking. I will be so happy to just go off with you without anyone assuming the worst."

"I knew what you meant," Harry said softly, even though he hadn't. "I was just teasing. So...all this alone time, all we're going to be doing is having deep personal talks, eh?" He raised his eyebrows and looked sideways at her.

"Well maybe more than just talking..." Ginny said suggestively. "Want a sneak peek?"

"Ginny...you mentioned those nosy parents – now I'm all paranoi---." Before he could finish the word 'paranoid', he was against a tree and Ginny was kissing him fiercely. He didn't have hardly the amount of self-control that he made it out to be and he not-so-much reluctantly relented to her kissing him passionately with his back against a tree. When he came up for air, after a few minutes, he smiled at her, a dazed look in his eyes. Then she leaned closer to him and whispered in his ear, "I love you." Harry stood back, shocked. She had never said it before. He said it everyday, but he had just assumed she wasn't ready. He had never asked; he didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable if her answer was negative.

"I mean it, Harry. I thought I loved you for a while, but I didn't want to say it and then realize that I was wrong, after having lied to you and led you to believe anything false. But I've been thinking. Even when you were gone, I felt so much pain by your absence, and now that you're here, I feel unlimited happiness. Whether it's good or bad emotion, you make me feel things I've never felt before. You make me feel emotions stronger than I've ever felt them. And I realized that I wouldn't feel that way if I didn't love you." Harry was almost moved to tears by this, not because he was an especially mushy lovey-dovey person, but the thought that he had caused Ginny that much pain was unbearable.

"Oh my god, Ginny, I'm sorry. I never understood how much pain you felt. I mean, I felt unbearable pain, too, but I guess I always thought I cared about you more than you cared about me, that I wasn't good enough for you. And all those days, sitting on hillsides, watching your little dot on the Marauder's Map, I thought that you probably hadn't even thought about me since my birthday. Ginny, I love you. I'm sorry. Was it really bad? I can't bear to think that I caused you as much pain as I was going through."

"When you were gone, every day was dark**. **It was horrible.I felt sorry for myself and part of me hated you.Harry, I'm not going to lie. I was depressed for most of my 6th year. But it wasn't your fault. It was life, and we were just caught up in it."

"Ginny – I...I don't even know what to say. I-I'm so so sorry ---"

"Harry, Harry, it's okay. It's over. We're back together now, and nothing else matters. Harry, when you were gone, I realized something that in my pain, made me love you more than anything. There's no substitute for you.**"** Harry was speechless at this. He kissed Ginny fiercely in replacement of words, and they walked back towards the house hand in hand.

The next morning went smoothly; there was no morning rush this year. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were adults now. They were not going to leave their packing for the morning before they returned to school. They had been packed for the majority of the day before, and they simply Apparated to a safe point outside King's Cross (both Harry and Ginny had passed their tests that summer).

The ride to Hogwarts was the best yet, just Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry. They laughed, they talked about the year ahead and the year past. They were just one group of friends.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

Author's Note: Wow so I know it's been a MILLION years since I last wrote in this story, but I was reminded because I just started a new story and it reminded me of this one and I wanted to start back up. I was also encouraged by the great reviews…so here it goes. This is a few months later, and I skipped because I really want to get on with the story, and the events that really make up my story needed a few months to develop, which would have been a boring few chapters. So this is three months later…enjoy!

Chapter Five

3 Months Later

Harry smiled as Ginny entered the common room. Her hair was windswept and her robes were jumbled from Quidditch practice. She was now the team captain and Gryffindor had won their first game against Ravenclaw. The pivotal Slytherin match was right around the corner and her team was working extra hard. It was comforting to Harry to think that such ordinary, wonderful things like Quidditch could happen again, just like when he was at his first years at Hogwarts.

He, personally, didn't play. McGonagall had agreed that it would be unfair for a student who was technically an 8th year to play. He missed it a lot, but he played random matches with Ron and Ginny on the field sometimes and it was comforting to know that they had a least found a decent replacement for him. More than decent, in fact. The new find, a 3rd year girl named Elsa Dorrins was marvelous and some called her the female Harry Potter. He loved to watch the matches, and went to all of them, even if Gryffindor wasn't playing. It was weird, however, to be one of the spectators instead of one of the brightly clad players zooming around on broomsticks.

His thoughts strayed away from Quidditch and back to Ginny as she flopped down on the couch next to him. In truth, it was hard to think about anything but Ginny was she was within at least 5 feet of him. Her hair was a fiery as ever and her skin was smooth and pale. He reached out a hand to touch her cheek and she slapped it away playfully. He prodded her in the ribs as revenge and they started tickling each other until they collapsed, breathless, in each other's arms.

"So, how was practice?" Harry asked, now twirling a piece of her hair.

"Good. Exhausting but good." She tried to blow the strand of hair out of his fingers, pursing her lips in a lovely way. Harry leaned down and kissed her, and she giggled.

"Why do you look so down then?" He asked. She had played along with his games, but there was a line between his eyebrows and her shoulders slumped.

"Ugh…sorry, it's nothing to do with you. I have to go see Van Loren. I only just remembered." Professor Van Loren was their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Most people loved him. He was lively and funny and his classes went by quickly. Ginny, however, had never really liked him. Harry hadn't really ever formed an opinion about him, as he wasn't required to take DADA classes.

"Why? Detention? Ginny Weasley, have you been bad?!" He asked in mock outrage.

"No, not at all!! He told me I wasn't fighting the Imperius Curse correctly! He says we need private lessons so he can teach me properly. I mean, I've thrown it off 3 times in front of the class, but he says I'm not using the right method. I mean, there aren't different methods or anything. You either do it or you don't! Am I wrong?" Ginny was clearly furious about this, and Harry smiled at how cute her outrage made her look. But then he became serious again to answer her, knowing how much it would anger her if she saw him.

"No, you're right. I'm just confused. I thought you said Van Loren liked you. Why's he punishing you?"

"No, he does. But that's the thing. He likes me a bit too much. He's always asking me to present for the class or to stay after. He makes up bad excuses too. Like, he'll say I didn't hand in my homework when it's sitting on his desk. It's really starting to creep me out." Ginny slouched back, looking rather disgusted. Harry started to feel the low rumble of anger in his stomach. He hated the idea of someone making Ginny uncomfortable and especially disliked other men potentially being attracted to her, particularly one so much older than her.

"Alright, I have an idea. Let's practice it a couple more times. You and me. I'm sure you can do it just fine, but we'll make it so there's no doubt you can do it, on your first try. Then you'll just tell him you worked it out and he can test you in front of the class, however many times he wants. If you throw it off at once every time, there's no way he can keep you back again."

Ginny beamed. "You'd do that for me? Thank you, Harry. Seriously. I do NOT want to have be alone with that guy. Where should we practice? Here?"

Harry looked around. As it was only 8 o'clock, the common room was still crowded and it wouldn't do to practice there. Harry thought for a moment. "The Room of Requirement. We can't be interrupted, and I don't think anyone will really know what to do if they see me Imperiusing you. But it can wait until tomorrow. You must be exhausted."

"I think being in your presence has revived me," she said mockingly. "But seriously, I want to get it over with. Let's do it now." She stood up from the couch and grabbed Harry's hand, dragging him towards the

portrait hole. They set out through the school, making their way to the Room of Requirement. The corridors were still open, and even if they weren't, no teacher would really stop Harry Potter from wandering around after hours. It would be somewhat condescending to put the man who had defeated Voldemort into detention.

When they reached the blank stretch of wall across from the trolls dancing ballet, Harry paced back and forth a three times, thinking "We need a place for two people to practice spells." When the door appeared, Harry pulled the knob and entered a small, cozy room. Flames crackled in a stone fireplace across the room and there was a long couch and a squashy armchair. There was enough space for them to stand apart and walk around and the floor was carpeted in case either of them fell, which Harry was thankful for.

"Ooh, I like it like this. It's very cozy," commented Ginny as she pulled Harry all the way inside and shut to the door. Ginny started to pull off her Quidditch robes. Harry was speechless and rather taken aback for a few moments before he realized she had a t-shirt and shorts on underneath. "Sorry, they were bothering me."

"Not a problem." Harry was still recovering and Ginny laughed at what he assumed to be his rather bemused expression.

Over the next half hour, they practiced. It felt somewhat awkward to Harry to be controlling his girlfriend with spells, but she was okay with it, and that was all that mattered. She was a little shaky at first, only throwing it off about one in three times. He made jump on the couch, dance ballet (inspired by the painting across the hall), do a perfect split, stand on her hand, and spin around in circles until she got dizzy and fell. As the half hour passed, she got better and better until she could throw it off immediately.

"I think you've mastered it. There's no way Van Lorden can say you're mediocre after that. You're probably the best in the class now." Harry himself was rather drained from casting Unforgiveable Curses all day. He sat down and rested his head on the back of the sofa.

"Well, I must be, with you as my teacher." Ginny grinned.

"Oh, haha…"

"No, I'm serious," she said sincerely. "Anyway, can we do just one more? Please? I wanna make sure I really have it down."

"Ugh…."

"Pleeeeaaaaassseeee?"

"Fine!" Harry pulled himself off the couch and stood facing Ginny. He had already decided to play a trick on Ginny for doubting herself and for making him get up. "Imperio!" He called, and Ginny assumed a somewhat vacant look. He flicked his wand and she came towards him, closer and closer until she kissed him. She then slid her hands through his hair, and started to kiss his jaw and then his neck, making her way down to his chest…."Whoa!" He yelled, breaking the spell. "I am NOT doing that!!"

Ginny looked up at him, her eyes full of mirth. "I know, I threw it off almost immediately. I just wanted to freak you out."

"Well, that was really good! I didn't even know you'd broken the spell."

"Oh stop talking about spells…where were we? Oh yes…" She tilted his face back down towards her. She touched his lips, softly at first, sending chills down his spine. She put more pressure on then, taking control. All sense of play had gone. This was truly serious and passionate and real. She slid her tongue in between his lips and opened them, deepening the kiss. Harry kissed her back passionately, without abandon. He did not care about the unconscious effect this was having on his body or where this may or may not have been leading. All he cared about was that he was in heaven. This, this was pure bliss.

Ginny pulled him onto the couch so that he was lying on top of her. She traced his spine with her fingers and his fingers, in turn, played around her hairline, tickled her ears, and slid down her neck. This was careening quickly off a cliff, but neither of them noticed nor would they have cared. They were beyond awkwardness, beyond fear. The two of them were in love, and that was all that really mattered.

Before he could stop it, Ginny had grabbed the front of his shirt and pushed him off so that he rolled onto the soft carpeted floor on his back. His first thought was that she had thought it had gone too far, but then she readjusted herself on top of him and continued kissing him. She was sitting almost upright with her head leaning down, her hair falling in a perfect shiny, straight sheet, tickling one side of his head. Her lips were on his lips, then they were on his jaw and his neck and back down to his chest, where they had been originally before she had stopped him.

He felt sure they were crossing over into something different, something new, and something scary. All his wildest hopes, desires, and fears were confirmed when she leaned down gently and whispered in his ear, "I'm ready, Harry." He was apprehensive, but his body took over when his mind couldn't.

He thought desperately how much more natural this would be if the lights were off.

In one moment it was dark and quiet and he felt Ginny pull off his shirt.


	6. Creep

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Author's Note: Thanks for the encouraging reviews…I'll definitely keep writing whenever I get a chance. To the person who said the professor is creeping them out…Good! He's supposed to. But just be prepared, he's about to get a whole lot creepier. (Just look at the title of the chapter). This chapter kind of marks the end of the cuteness, the "awwww", the fluff, so if that's the only reason you're reading it and you won't like it if it gets darker, then I suggest not continuing to read it.

Just by the way, this is from the perspective of Professor Van Loren (his first name is Marcus). Hope you enjoy it.

Chapter Six – Creep

Marcus Van Loren sat impatiently at his desk, watching the clock. 4 minutes, he thought inwardly. They were going to be the longest four minutes of his life. He heaved a sigh and returned to the paper he was grading. The person had spelled dementor wrong, and seeing this, he put a large red zero at the top. Usually he was an easy grader, but the tension, anger, and severe disappoint had caused him to turn.

Why hadn't she come? He had told her to meet him yesterday, and she had never showed. He wasn't just angry because she had disobeyed him as a teacher; he felt stood up. He clenched his jaw in frustration and banged his fist on the table, causing his owl, which was perched in the corner, to jump and hoot. He didn't apologize.

He glanced back up at the clock. 2 minutes. 2 fucking minutes. Then she would have to explain herself. He was looking forward to it, to making her squirm with fear underneath his angry glare. The next minutes passed by painstakingly slow, but finally the bell rang and the students entered his classroom in a line. He waited with baited breath, and she was the last one to enter.

His anger subsided a bit when he saw he face, pale, soft, and freckled and her fiery hair that tumbled down her back. She almost glided across the room.

The loud screech of chairs being pulled close to desks pulled him out of his reverie. He would wait until after class to ask her why she hadn't come. Then he could be alone in the room with her. Yes that would be the best option.

"Alright, class, let's begin. Take out your wands. We're going to be working on silently deflecting spells today. I know you were supposed to have mastered silent spells last year, but I've noticed a fair few of you still murmuring under your breath, so we're going to work a little more on that…"

The class passed painstakingly slow. He divided them into pairs and had them practice cursing and deflecting. He paired himself with Ginny. When he first announced it, he thought he saw of flash of annoyance, mixed with defiance cross her face, but then it was gone and he concluded that he had just imagined it. He had to admit that she was marvelous at Defense Against the Dark Arts. She had never really had a problem with her fighting the Imperius curse; he just wanted time alone with now. But he knew he couldn't pull the same trick twice: she was too good at silent deflections, probably the best in the class.

Finally the bell rang, and he dismissed the class, adding "Ginny, I need to speak with you." She looked like she had been expecting this, although that didn't seem to make it any less pleasant to her.

She moved in front of his desk, which he was sitting behind and stared him down defiantly. "You wanted to speak to me?" She asked with an unconvincing naïve tone.

"Yes. You didn't come yesterday. I told you that you needed further practice in fighting the Imperius Curse. You disobeyed me. Please explain yourself." He tried his best to stare at her coldly, but didn't think he quite hid the longing and desperation that he felt in his heart.

"Oh, well, I practiced it, with, erm, Harry, you know my boyfriend, and I think I've mastered it." She stammered, a scarlet blush creeping slowly from her cheeks. Marcus felt anger rise up within him like volcanic lava. Not only had she stood him up, but she had spent that time with her boyfriend. It infuriated him to think that Harry fucking Potter made her feel like that, that she would blush that much just talking about him. Or was it something else? Her defiant glare was gone, and she was averting her eyes in embarrassment…

"Well, then, you shouldn't mind if we just practice it now, to make sure you've gotten it down." Marcus stood up abruptly. Ginny moved apprehensively across the room and stood facing him. He turned towards her and called, "Imperio!" then flicked his wand. She started walk towards him across the room, closer and closer, until she was within feet of him, then inches, until he could count the freckles on her nose and hear her breaths.

Marcus could not know that Harry had done the same thing yesterday and how differently his would be received. Ginny broke the spell easily and looked up into his face with such loathing on hers that he stepped back. She then turned on her heel and ran out the door, not out of shame or fear, but out of the need to get as far away from him as possible as soon as possible.

"She's always fucking running away from me" he said sadly, and then continued on bitterly, "but whatever she wants. She'll see."

He walked quickly towards the door and shut it so hard, the wall shook.

Later that night, he walked out of his office and towards the Gryffindor common room. He had been a Slytherin when he had attended Hogwarts, but when he became a teacher, he had been told where all the common rooms were. Before he rounded the last corner, he put a Disillusionment Charm on himself and instantly blended in with the stone wall behind him. He crept around the corner, past the Fat Lady and settled down in a dark corner beside the portrait hole. Then, he waited.

The professor inside of him told him that he was being dishonest and creepy, but the spark inside him told him that he couldn't stop himself. That spark was Ginny. It was like there was a flame, like her hair, like her personality, inside him and spread through his veins and into his heart and into his brain and controlled him. He couldn't stop wanting her, needing her. And he couldn't stop himself standing up when a Gryffindor rounded the corner and following him through the portrait hole after he murmured the password ("Wingardium Leviosa") to the Fat Lady. After his slipped through, he darted into another dark corner, still invisible, and waited again.

At a half hour to midnight, all the students had gone up to the dormitories. He stood up, shook out his arms and legs, which were stiff from sitting against the rough stone wall for hours, and moved towards

the staircase to the girls' dormitory. He remembered what had happened in his 6th year when he had tried to get up the girls' staircase and pointed his wand to himself, and then levitated up the stairs. He landed softly at the top and looked around cautiously. All of the girls had gone to bed.

He saw her hair first, splayed out across her bed sheets so it looked like her pillow was on fire. He moved towards her bed and looked down at her peaceful, slumbering face.

He reached out an invisible hand and touched her hair.

"Hmmm, I'm tired, Harry," she murmured and then rolled over. The volcanic lava bubbled up inside of him again.

"Jesus, you are so amazing.**"** Suddenly disgust at himself and what he was doing raged up inside, stronger than the volcanic lava. "What the hell am I doing here? I 'm such a fucking pervert." He couldn't look at her any more, her beautiful sleeping face, her lips turned up with a smile, thinking it was the man she loved stroking her hair. He turned and waiting to the top of the staircase, then levitated himself down.

A dark, dangerous thought had been forming in his head as he had watched her. If he had interpreted her blush from earlier correctly as well as the fact that she was okay with the thought of Harry being in her bed…maybe he had all he needed.

He stopped at the foot of the boys' staircase, thinking hard whether this was really what he wanted to do. But he knew the answer before he even really had to think about it. He walked up the staircase and into the dormitory, scanning the room of sleeping boys and men. He spotted Harry and moved swiftly but quietly over to him. When he reached his bed, he plucked a few black hairs. Harry stirred but didn't wake.

It wasn't love really, what he felt for Ginny, he knew that much. It was more like an obsession, fierce and fiery, just like her. It coursed through his veins and controlled his mind and body. It drew him to her like a moth to a flame. There wasn't any point in trying to control it, or stop it. He knew it would always be there, deep inside of him. The only thing was to let it breathe, let it be, feed it even.

And he already had a plan to do just that.


	7. Volcano

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

_Author's Note: Thanks for all the great reviews. I hope you like this chapter as well. Sorry about all the breaks and switching of perspectives, but this chapter really works best if told from a bunch of different point of views. So yea, hope you enjoy! _

Chapter 7 – Volcano

The next morning Ginny awoke in her bed. She had sworn Harry had come and visited her in the night, somehow maneuvering around the enchanted staircase. She climbed out of her bed and yawned and stretched. It was Saturday and she was looking forward to spending the day with Harry and not having to see Professor Van Loren. She put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and left the dormitory looking for Harry.

When she got to the common room, he wasn't anywhere to be seen and after tiptoeing up to the Boys' Dormitories, she realized he must have gone down to breakfast. 10 minutes later she plopped down in the seat next to him at the Gryffindor table. He had a _Daily Prophet_ propped against a glass of orange juice which he was reading as he ate of piece of toast.

"Hey Harry," she said. He looked around at her and took a sip of juice before kissing her on the lips in greeting.

"Well good morning to you too." She said, smiling, and he smiled back.

"So I was thinking--" He started, but Ginny remembered her earlier thought and cut him off.

"Hey, did you come and visit me in the Girls' Dormitory last night. I could have sworn someone touched my hair."

"Erm, no. Definitely not. Remember the enchanted staircase? 5th year? I wouldn't make that mistake again…" he trailed off, apparently lost in memories.

"Well, you could've found a way around that," she pointed out, then continued, "Oh well, I guess it was just a dream. So, you were thinking…?" She stared at Harry and waited.

"Oh! Right…sorry, forgot my train of thought there for a moment. Anyway. It's a lovely Saturday. Well actually, it's cold and windy and snowy…but the fact that it's a Saturday makes it lovely. Ron and Hermione are out who knows where doing who knows what. It's a Hogsmeade weekend, but we can really do whatever we want. So what do you want to do?"

"Hmmm…well, I don't really want to go to Hogsmeade. I've done all my Christmas shopping by Owl Order and as you said, it is rather cold and windy and snowy and basically horrible outside. But you know, it is an awfully large castle and there are plenty of nooks, crannies, rooms, et cetera for walking, talking, snogging, and…other activities. What do you say…we could, erm, hang out for a little while in the Room of Requirement." They stared at each other for a few moments, both of them grinning sheepishly, both understanding exactly what Ginny was talking about.

"That…sounds great!" He gave her a dazzling grin and she returned it.

"Alright. I'll change and meet you back there in 10 minutes."

The following week was the last before term ended for Christmas holiday. It went by quickly, seeing as Ginny and Harry were completely swept up in each other and were extremely excited for the end of term. They had decided that they were going to live together at Grimmauld Place during the holiday, visiting, of course, with the Weasleys for the days before and after Christmas. Ginny had already spoken to her mother about the seriousness of her and Harry's relationship and Mrs. Weasley, although taken aback, had admitted that she didn't really have any control over it, as Ginny was of age. She also said that if there was no one better suited to take care of her daughter than Harry.

Ginny had passed through the week easily. She had told Harry that Van Loren had lain off bothering her, although he did seem to give her some strange looks every now and then. However, he didn't partner himself up with her and he didn't ask her to stay after class, for which she was extremely thankful.

Finally, the last Friday of the term was there and everyone was ecstatic to leave. Ron and

Hermione had left before the final week, as they could come and go whenever they pleased. Harry, however, had chosen to stay and wait for Ginny, who was still an official student and who couldn't just leave on a whim. She had felt bad about the fact that he had to stay, but being Hermione and Ron-free had its benefits. They could go to the Room of Requirement whenever they wanted without any awkward questions.

Harry and Ginny had decided to stop in at the Burrow to say hello before leaving for Grimmauld Place. However, they knew they'd probably be convinced into staying for night and they wanted some quality private time before having to be separated for even one night. After Ginny's last class, she went and found Harry, who was in the library.

"Hey, what sup?" He asked as she entered, grinning widely.

"Well, you know how we think we'll probably be forced to stay the night at the Burrow? I was thinking, we could have, like a romantic dinner and some private time together in the Room of Requirement before leaving…but that'll make me miss the train."

"No that's fine!" Harry gathered up his books and gestured for her to leave the library with him.

"You know, I can just come and go whenever I please. And I'm sure for this occasion that privilege can be extended to you. We can just Floo to the Burrow from McGonagall's office later. I'll go and tell her now that you won't be taking the Hogwarts Express if you want."

She smiled up at him. "Thanks, Harry."

Harry closed the door behind him as he left McGonagall's office. He had just arranged for Ginny to Floo to the Burrow from McGonagall's office instead of taking the train home. He was excited to see Ginny and have their time together. He had gone to the Room of Requirement earlier, and tested out asking it exactly the right questions so that it would be perfect, candles, dinner, romantic setting.

More than that, he was ecstatic that he would be able to live with Ginny for the winter holiday. They could get up whenever they wanted, go to sleep whenever they wanted, and do whatever they wanted instead of being baby-ed and treated like children at the Burrow. Moreover, Grimmauld Place had become less of a gloomy house steeped in bad memories and more of a home ever since Kreacher had really taken over his duties.

Harry walked up a staircase to the 7th floor and turned a corner when everything went black and he fell to the ground.

Ginny sat in the Room of Requirement, getting more and more impatient. Where the hell was Harry? He had told her that he had planned out what it was going to look like, but had told her that he wanted it to be a surprise. She had just murmured to herself, "I need a place to wait for Harry" and the room had given her something resembling the room they had first practiced the Imperius curse in.

She sat in a squashy armchair, swinging her foot so that it hit her leg, not taking her eyes off the door. Five minutes later, the door opened and Harry strode in, looking out of breath and with a strange look on his face, one that she had never seen before. It looked almost alien on his features. It was a mixture of anxiety and feverish excitement. Ginny was puzzled over this but brushed it away and leapt up to greet him.

"So what do you have planned for us tonight?" She asked, beaming, and put her hands around his neck, kissing him. Again, there was a strange, alien quality about him. His lips moved differently against hers and there was a hungry quality to the way he kissed her. She broke it off and looked up at him, awaiting a reply.

"Oh…um this is fine, I guess. What were you expecting?" There was a gruff tone to his voice.

"Well, what about dinner?" Ginny was starting to get worried. His was acting strangely. Had she done something?

"I'm not hungry. "

"Are you okay? You seem like you're angry at me or something." Ginny tried to look him in the eye, but his was avoiding her gaze, as if afraid she would see something in there. Was he about to break it off with her?

"No. Not at all."

"Um, alright, well if you're not hungry, maybe we should go. I mean, I can still make the train and just meet you at the Burrow." The idea of staying here with him while he was in this terrible mood was getting less and less appealing, and, although she knew she was being cowardly, she wanted to leave before he had the chance to do any damage to their relationship.

"No!" He nearly shouted, and Ginny stepped back. "No, no, let's just stay here and…hang out for a while."

"Um, alright," said Ginny, although it was the last thing she wanted to do. She sat down on the couch and he did the same. He immediately lunged towards her and started kissing her. She kissed him back for a moment and then stopped. It felt unnatural, and she didn't want to do that with this weird Harry. Not here, not now. She felt used. "What the hell? I'm not a fucking toy, Harry! Are we done now?"

"No!" Harry was standing up, and Ginny, feeling somewhat threatened, stood up as well. "We've done it before! Why can't we now? Ginny!" With that, he pushed her down and she landed on her back. In that moment, she realized what she had been feeling, however deep down, from the moment he walked in. Whoever this was, it was _not_ Harry. He would never do anything like this to her. And she needed to get the hell out of here, as soon as possible.

She stayed on the ground on her back for a moment, watching the fake Harry tower over her, pretending she had not had her recent epiphany. As stealthily as humanly possible, she reached her hand into her pocket and slowly started to draw her wand out. But he saw, and as soon as she had it out, it flew from her hand across the room and continuing rolling into a corner.

However, the moment it had taken for him to get his own wand out was enough for Ginny. She was able to leap up from the floor and ran as fast as she could towards to door. Still, he threw a silent spell at her and she was tripped up and landed, sprawled on her face, on the ground.

She heard heavy footsteps make their way towards her and rolled over as he reached her body. She flung a leg up at him at and hit his wand. It cracked in two and flew across the room, just like hers. Now

they were both wandless. Ginny quickly stood up and faced her attacker, just in time to see a hand come flying towards her and felt her cheek sting as he slapped her. She stumbled backwards against a wall and he rushed towards her, pinning her there. His elbow was pressed against her chest, and her breathing was labored from it.

"I don't know who the hell you are, but I know you're not Harry.**"** She spat at him bitterly and he raised a hand again, this time punching her. Pain erupted on the right side of her face and she felt a trickle of blood down her temple. However, the hand he had used to deliver the blow had been pinning her right hand to the wall. She lifted it and punched him back with as much force as possible. Her hand felt bruised and sore but she could tell she had at least inflicted pain on him. He stumbled backwards. "Take that, asshole" Ginny sneered, taking pleasure in inflicting the same pain on him that he had inflicted on her.

As he recovered from her punch, she was able to shoulder him away from her and head for the door, but he recovered quicker than she expected and managed to grab her arm and push her back onto the ground. He kneeled down in front of her, coming closer.

"I need to do this, Ginny. I need to...oh fuck, she's so young,**"** the man said half to her and half to himself. Ginny didn't understand a word of it, but it seemed to mean something to him. As he was distracted, she managed to kick him in the stomach. He stopped moving towards her and doubled over in pain.

She rolled over on her stomach, prepping to push herself back up, when he kicked her, hard, in the side and she was rolled over again onto her back. She was completely winded from kick, and in pain, and she had no energy left to fight back. He had stood up again and was lowering himself down on top of her. She knew what was coming and she struggled feebly, but she knew she didn't stand a chance. She had closed her eyes, resigning herself to her fate, when the door banged open.

What Harry saw in the Room of Requirement hit him like a physical pain. He had awoken, moments ago, in a broom closet. His glasses had been mysteriously missing, and he had had to create a new pair with magic. Unaware of what had happened to him, but with an unpleasant sense of foreboding he had

rushed to the Room of Requirement. After he had murmured "I need to see Ginny" three times and the door had appeared, he flung it open to find….

Himself on top of a struggling Ginny. The imposter looked up as Harry entered and immediately leapt up. Harry had a full view of Ginny from there, and he saw her face bruised and bleeding. A mixture of devastating pain and cold fury rose up inside him so powerfully that he couldn't control himself. He ran for the imposter, his wand forgotten and took him by surprise. He collided with the man and pinned him against the wall, then raised his fist and punched him so hard that his head bounced off the stone and hit it again with a sickening crack.

Harry remembered his wand but didn't take it out. Part of it was because he didn't trust himself to not use Avada Kedavra, but mostly he knew he had to beat this man silly with his own hands. Just as he had felt it fitting to dig Dobby's grave himself, he felt it was fitting to use Muggle techniques to deal with Ginny's would-be rapist, as a tribute to her.

The man stirred and retaliated with a punch back at Harry, but he didn't feel the pain. The emotional pain inside of him was so much that he couldn't feel anything else. He couldn't feel the punch because all he could think was how Ginny had been hurt and how he hadn't been able to protect her.

He grabbed the man by the throat and, adrenaline pumping, pulled him away from the wall and tossed him to the ground. He flung himself on top of him and punched him over and over until the man was out cold. It felt strange to be punching himself, to feel such fury at himself, or at least someone who looked like him. But at the same time, he felt a sick pleasure in doing it. Not only was he punishing Ginny's attacker, but he was taking out his fury at himself, punishing himself for not being able to help her…

The face of the man in front of him was changing. It started to grow wider and the cracked and broken glasses that had once belonged to Harry tumbled off. The black hair grew longer, lightened to brown, and curled. The eyes grew larger and darker from green to near black, so it looked like spots of ink were spreading out from his pupils. In a few moments time, Harry found himself looking down into the face of…

Professor Van Loren. He had been expecting this, but he still felt so angry that his hand shook uncontrollably as he pointed his wand at the man and ropes sprang out and bound themselves around the unconscious teacher.

Harry hurried over to Ginny, who was propped up on her elbows, looking exhausted and as if she was in pain. He could not help the tears that came to his eyes and rolled down his cheeks as he saw her still beautiful, always beautiful face covered in blood and bruised. He put his arms around her and she collapsed in his lap.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" said Harry as he lifted her up and pressed her head closer to him, enfolding her entire body in his arms.

"It's okay. I'm okay. Although I do think I may have broken a rib or two." She gave him a weak smile, and his heart broke even more. Why'd she always have to be so strong? He could tell that she was masking her pain, trying to make it look like it wasn't a big deal, but it was. If there was ever a time for her to show weakness, it was now, but she refused. Seeing his distressed expression, she took his face in her hands and said, "Really, Harry, it's not your fault."

But something inside of him had been broken. And he knew that no matter what she told him, no matter how long he lived, it would never really be fixed.

_Author's Note: So I hope you liked it. I was actually originally going to have Van Loren actually rape her, but all the comments changed my mind. What I did do with it serves the same purpose though, so the rest of the plot doesn't change. I'll try to get the next chapter up soon, but I can't make any promises. _


	8. Hide and Seek

So wow, I'm starting this story back up after more than a year. I have to say, I totally forgot about it. I haven't been on fan fiction in months. But then, I just decided I wanted to keep going. So here goes. I hope there's someone out there who still cares haha. I also hope my writing style hasn't changed so much in a year (for the worse, which is possible) that it's unreadable. Oh, and I've decided to stop with the songs. I realized that was really stupid. Huh, you do get a lot of perspective with a year.

Chapter Eight

Harry sat, reeling with shock and disgust, in a rickety chair at the Burrow. The room was empty, but people were moving throughout the house. He could hear the creaks of floorboards above and the hushed whispers from the next room. He sat with his head in his hands, but his fingertips were numb, making the skin of his face feel like some alien substance.

Someone walked into the room. Harry's head whipped up and he saw that it was Ron, as he simultaneously blurted, "How is she?" Ron's glance was initially cool, but his face softened to pity as he took in Harry. If he looked as bad as he felt…well, then he probably was the most pitiful creature in the world.

"She's alright. You know Ginny, she's tough." Ron sighed as he plopped down in a chair next to Harry, who groaned with a mix of relief and residual pain. He felt like every sound he made, every word he spoke for the rest of his life would have a tone of residual pain. Because how could pain like this subside? And the worst thing was that he wasn't even the one who got hurt. He had just had to watch it play out like some sick scene from a film, or a nightmare, before his eyes. Surely the girl who had actually been assaulted was faring much worse.

"Look, Ron….I am so sorry." His voice broke on the last word, and he didn't trust himself to say anything more.

"It's not your fault."

"Of course it's my fault. And don't act like if all your brothers were here right now, you wouldn't be murmuring about the best jinx to cast so I would never be able to touch her again. The best way to kill me and make it look like an accident."

"Harry, you're my best mate. I'd never kill you…on purpose." Harry felt the corners of his lips turn up, an unnatural motion. "And you basically are a Weasley brother."

"Okay, that's just weird. That would mean Ginny was my sister."

Ron grimaced. "You know what I mean. You'd be in the circle murmuring about the best way to kill…" But he couldn't form the name, and Harry was glad. Hearing it would make the blood boil up inside him so that his tongue felt hot and his vision blurred.

"Well we wouldn't make it look like an accident. That would probably involve less pain for him." It felt nice to have a natural talk with Ron, and Harry felt his insides uncoil when he determined that Ron did not hate him, did not want to castrate him or sling him up on a tree. But then he remembered with a quick jolt what exactly they were talking about it, and his stomach tensed again, heavier now with an added sense of guilt for finding one moment of respite.

The two boys sat in silence for several minutes, watching the fire crackle. Harry wished he could see Van Loren standing in the fire, preferably tied to a stake and screaming in pain as his flesh boiled in front of him and his eyes popped out, followed by the rest of his mangled, charred organs…

But he was in a cold holding cell at the Ministry, guarded by two burly wizards, probably dreading his fate but still recounting every precious touch and forced kiss he got from Ginny. Harry felt slightly sick at the thought. In his mind, Van Loren was himself, brown haired and dark eyed with a sneer twisted on his disgusting features. He realized with a jolt that it would be the opposite for Ginny. Whenever she closed her eyes, she would see him, Harry, hurting her, hitting her, forcing her down and climbing over her…

Bile rose in his throat and instead he thought of what faced Van Loren now. He awaited trial at the Ministry when the winter holidays were over. They would have tried him immediately, but the head of the Wizengamot was apparently vacationing in the south of France and Van Loren would have to be tried by a smaller, newer jury. McGonagall had refused, saying she did not want him to slip through some loophole or by the blunder of an inexperienced law enforcer. Harry smiled as his remembered McGonagall's fierce response to the startling revelation: shock, followed by cold fury, with a fire burning through her voice whenever she spoke. He knew she would hunt him down to the ends of the Earth for hurting her students, especially ones so close to her heart.

Another figure walked into the room and Harry's thoughts broke like glass. Mrs. Weasley stood over the threshold of the kitchen, looking sad and ambivalent. She stared at Harry and Ron with intense pity, then finally cleared her throat and said, "She's just gone to sleep. She's doing fine. Hermione's staying up there with her for now. I think you two should go to bed. It's been a long night."

Harry stood up, feeling awkward and still sore from the fight earlier. As he passed Mrs. Wealsey, her eyes watered up at the sight of him and he felt even guiltier. So much pain, all because of him.

"Do you need anything else?" She asked in a small, watery voice.

"For what?"

"Your face, of course!" Harry had totally forgot about the damage to his face, but as he got a glimpse of himself in the reflection of window, he saw bruises across his left eye, his nose, and his right cheek. He didn't even remember Van Loren hitting him.

"No, not at all. I forgot about it actually. Thanks anyway." Mrs. Weasley gave him a clumsy pat and turned to the messy kitchen, allowing Harry to slip into the dark hallway and follow after Ron, who had already started heading up towards bed. As he passed Ginny's door, he felt almost a magnetic pull to enter, to see her, or least to press himself up against it and listen for any sound for her talking or moving or breathing – anything to prove that she was still there, human and alive. But he turned away, knowing he would not be welcome. He heard murmurs coming from the room George and Percy were staying in, but did not stay to listen, afraid what they were saying was about him.

Charlie was in Romania and Bill and Fleur were in France visiting Fleur's family for Christmas. Ginny had downright refused to let her mother call them back, saying she was perfectly fine and making a big deal about it would just make it worse. Mrs. Weasley had tried to tell her that it _was_ a big a deal, but Ginny had remained stubborn. Harry had heard the fight between them from his hideout in the kitchen. Well less of a fight and more of a one way screaming match. Mrs. Weasley didn't want to upset her daughter any more than necessary.

Mr. Weasley had returned home from work immediately, but had eventually gone back to work out the legal issues they would soon be faced with and make sure that Van Loren really was locked up securely. Who he was speaking to at the Ministry at 2 o clock in the morning Harry had no idea.

Harry walked through the ajar door and closed it behind him. As he caught sight of the warm, messy bed, exhaustion rolled over him in waves. He collapsed still dressed, planning to change after just a moment's rest, but before he knew it, he was spiraling down into sleep. Within a minute, he was out.

Harry woke up with a sick feeling in stomach, like when he knew he had a Quidditch match or a paper due that he hadn't completed. He couldn't place it at first, floundering around in his head. And then the memories came in a startling wave of disgust. He felt like his was going to throw up, but he turned away from his pillow and gulped in big breaths of cool air, and the feeling passed. He felt stiff and dirty and realized he was still wearing the clothes he had put on 10 years ago, or so it felt.

He put on his glasses and turned to find that Ron had left his bed. It was rumpled but empty. Feeling like he had the sweat and dirt and blood of a thousand years on him, he got up to wash and change. When he finally felt clean, he made his way down the stairs, dread filling his body. Who would he see, what would he say. And _her, _what if he saw _her_...

The kitchen was full but empty at the same time. It was crowded with redheads but empty of the one he was looking for. He sighed, not sure whether it was relief or disappointment. Did he want to see her? Everyone looked up at the same time, and Harry felt extremely uncomfortable. He did not know how he was going to be received by the entire family. When they had first returned by Floo, straight from the Hogwarts hospital wing, it was all a rush of confusion and relaying of the story. He hadn't really had time to digest Mr. Weasley, George, and Percy's reactions. He felt a bit relieved, therefore, to see that the tense atmosphere in the room was due only to the somber situation, not any hostility towards him. Mr. Weasley grimaced when he saw Harry's face and quickly handed him a cup of tea. George grinned in a playful way, as if to applaud him on the fight, but it was overshadowed by sadness. Whether this was just a continuation of the grief constantly etched on George's face since the death of Fred or pain at his sister's fate Harry did not know. Percy gave him a grim nod free from pompous airs or anger, and Harry figured this was practically the equivalent of a joyous hug for Percy.

Hermione looked at him with wide, pitying eyes bursting with unshed tears and threw herself into his arms with a cry of, "Oh, Harry!!" Her kind, unbiased love was an amazing tonic to his wounded heart. He hugged her back for a long moment before she pulled back and wiped her blotchy face. He was about to sit down and take a sip of his tea but Hermione moved to stop him.

"Ginny's awake," she said. "She wants to see you." His stomach dropped and he felt a scalding burn as tea splashed down his t-shirt.

"Um...okay," he replied and placed the cup on the table. He shuffled out as awkwardly as he had entered. He heard blood pulsing in his ears as he walked up the stairs to the landing and knocked quietly on the door.

"Harry?" She called, her voice so full of hope that it was easy to swing open the door and burst in. Before he was taken aback by her face. She was beautiful, as always, her radiant smile lighting up her face. But it was so dark that it was hard to see the features beneath it. There was a scratch on her right cheek and she had a horrible black eye. Bruises blossomed down her face and her nose and lips were swollen. He could see fainter marks on her arms, which looked like sticks poking out of the sleeves of her baggy t-shirt. He closed the door and turned back to her.

"We match!" She said, and laughed, but the action seemed to touch a sore rib and she stopped with the grimace.

"You're laughing?! What is wrong with you!" He asked, completely shocked, trying to make her understand the seriousness of the situation, but he could not keep a note of joy out of his voice, joy that she did not hate him for letting her down.

"What? It could be worse. I wasn't killed or...." She trailed off, not wanting to articulate what could have happened. "And you're not dead!"

"There's always a silver lining," he muttered quietly, searching her face for any sign of the suffering or distrust that he had expected. She seemed carefree, but she was a good actress. She patted the end of her bed and he went to sit cautiously beside her, afraid some breakdown would burst out of this perfectly controlled Ginny.

"Plus," she added, grinning, "I think guys who can hold their own in a fight are sexy. Those bruises turn me on." He knew she was kidding around, but he still felt shocked that she was acting so nonchalant. She reached out and took his hand and they sat in silence, looking in different directions for several quiet moments.

After a minute, he couldn't bear it anymore. He turned to her and asked, "Are you sure you're okay? I expected..."

"What? For me to be sitting up here weeping and feeling sorry for myself? You know me better than that. The past is the past. What's done is done. I could quote more but they're rather redundant." She looked at his face, mirth in her eyes, until it turned into cool annoyance. "Oh, stop looking at me like that. I feel like a wounded puppy."

"Well, actually -"

"Don't reply to that. It'll just make me angry, I'm sure." He laughed with her and felt a knot of tension relieve itself a bit.

She made a sudden movement, and Harry braced himself for some kind of outburst, but he didn't expect what was coming. In a split second, she was straddling him and her lips were on his. For a second his brain stopped working and he was just happy to have her back in his arms, where she belonged. But then his mind refocused and he pushed her back, hoping he wasn't touching any bruises.

"What are you doing?" He nearly yelled in a strangled voice.

"Kissing my boyfriend, what do you think?" She grinned devilishly and bent her face towards him again.

"No! No! What? Why is this happening? I know you're strong Ginny, but this....this is unnatural. Surely you aren't actually ready to...be with me again?"

"Of course I'm ready. That was nothing. It doesn't matter! It doesn't affect us." Her voice increased in desperation and lunged again for him. He was quicker, though, and scrambled off the bed.

"Yes, it does! You were attacked...well, basically by _me!_ At least that's what it must have been like to you!"

"I knew it wasn't you, Harry. I could tell after a bit."

"But still -"

"Harry, I'm not scared of you." She had moved slowly off the bed and was now in a prime position to launch herself at him again. Her arms locked around his neck and she kissed him passionately. She led him to the bed. When they reached it, Harry broke the kiss off, and spoke again, in a whisper this time, now longer yelling.

"You don't have to prove anything to me. I'm not worried that you'll freak out on me," he lied. "Should I be?"

"Of course not, Harry. I love you." He looked into his large brown eyes, trying to find out what this was about. But his desire for her overruled his confusion and he leaned back in to kiss her after saying he loved her, too. He kissed her bruised cheeks and black eyes and wounded skin, each kiss gentle and delicate, like the soft brush of fingertips. He found her lips again and she pulled him on top of her. It was getting more intense, her hands were moving down his back, and suddenly something broke.

She started gasping for air like she was drowning or suffocating and her weak arms pushed at his chest. "Get off, Harry," she said frantically between breaths. He tried to move, but his arms were caught behind her thrashing head, his legs entwined with hers. She wrestled with him like she was trying to get out from under an avalanche, and it only made the situation worse. She looked desperate, half-crazed as she struggled and suddenly an unintentional wave of magic burst out of her and he flew off, landing perfectly in a chair in the corner.

She was gasping, clutching herself like her own body was a life line. She said, "I'm sorry, I can't," and then she closed down.

She sat with her legs curled up close to her and her head buried in the crook of her left arm. A long sheet of hair covered what remained visible of her face.

In that moment, it hit him harder than ever before. Harder than when he had seen the impostor preparing over top of her. Harder than when he seen her resilience and strength in the hospital wing. Harder than when he had seen her battered and bruised face just now. Watching her pitiful form curled around itself, covering herself as if any emotion was indecent, made it so clear. He had never felt so helpless in his life, not when facing Voldemort or Death Eaters or Snape or Dumbledore or a Quidditch final or a Potions O.W.L. He had always seen something, anything that he could do to help, to make a difference. Even if it was mundane or pointless, there was always some next move. There was no next move now, just a gaping abyss spreading like spilled ink between them.

He felt himself descending into a pool of madness. His heart felt like it was beyond broken, for how could you break something that was dead? It rotted in his chest, festering, decaying, yet holding every memory, every cut and lash and burn. She was a goddess. An angel. He wanted to throw himself at her feet and worship her. But never touch her. She was too pure, too holy to touch. What right did he, a dirty human, have to touch a goddess? But he would sit there before her, bowing, praying, and she would know that he was hers entirely. He would do anything, be anyone, give everything, for her. Everything he had was hers – money, body, his heart, his brain, his protection. For this perfection. He gripped his hair in his hands, trying to pull it out, trying to feel something besides the cold rotting of his heart inside his chest. He continued to stare at her sad form, his eyes burning not with tears but with fire and obsession and desperation and devotion.

She pulled her head out of her arms slowly, as if trying to hide something. He saw wetness on her cheeks before she turned her face out of his view and raise the heel of hand to wipe something – a tear. His madness snapped. He returned to reality and felt his heart, strong and vital and beating in his chest – alive, but still in pain. She had finally succumbed to tears. Even after it happened, she had never once teared up. In the hospital wing, she sat, trying to hide her grimaces with her usual playful demeanor. Harry had tried to tell her that it was okay to show pain, but she had waved him off. And here she was, still trying to hide, but nevertheless shedding tears. Because of him. All because of him. Everything because of him.

He stood up, moving towards the bed, but not too close.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny." His words felt like weights, falling aimlessly into the darkness between them. Or maybe they were balloons, floating around pointlessly until they popped, filled with nothing but stale air. She just shook her head. She took a breath and looked like she was searching for words, forcing them to string together into a coherent sentence.

"I....I...just...."

"Need some space?" Harry offered. She nodded. He put his hands into his pockets to stop them from shaking and left the room without a backward glance, afraid of what he would see. But he stayed outside the closed door, not sure where he was going to go or what he was going to do. And he heard a noise, one he had never in his life heard before, one that was more terrifying than Voldemort's cold laugh or the words of the killing curse. Ginny's sobs carried out the door to the shabby landing where Harry stood, still as a statue, even though he was sure she was trying to muffle them with her hands or a tear-stained pillow. They were the kind of sobs that he was sure were racking her body with the sheer power of them.

Lost in despair, he sunk down and leaned against the door. His head fell automatically into his heads, a pose that felt like his natural state now. And tears streamed down his face, too, as he listened to her and could still see no next move except for more pain.


End file.
